His Butler - Rest Well Earned
by SplatDragon
Summary: Sebastian had done good. He'd earned his rest. Drabble set in Black Butler: Book of Atlantic.


It was cold.  
Sebastian was still.  
If he didn't know otherwise,  
he'd say the Demon was dead.  
But he'd checked his reflection in the frigid water.  
The Contract-mark was still there.  
Demons don't need sleep.  
They sleep to heal.  
Sebastian had been badly wounded.  
He'd need to sleep for a while.  
He'd earned it.

The zombies were gone.  
On both the ship  
and the boat  
Sebastian had fought them off  
to the butler's detriment.

He'd given the Earl his overcoat.  
His undershirt red with blood.  
Ciel tried not to look at the wound  
which tore his servant almost in two.

It was only for the Contract,  
he told himself.  
Sebastian had merely been  
fighting for his meal.  
But could that explain  
the panic on his face?  
When he saw Ciel  
being flung through the air?  
He'd look terrified,  
like he'd actually felt fear.

Then the Undertaker,  
traitor that he was,  
had torn him askew.

Blood had sprayed.  
Ciel had screamed  
his servant's name.  
Sebastian had gasped  
in pain  
and in fear,  
as the Earl had flown beyond his reach.

But against everything,  
he'd saved him.  
Stretched himself  
despite the pain,  
and caught the child's hands  
in his own.

Twisting in the air,  
he'd taken the impact.  
The pain knocking him  
out.

The child had been stunned  
and turned to face him,  
gasping out his name  
the one that he'd gave him.

The butler had  
groaned and shifted  
telling the Earl  
that he could hear him.

Despite the pain,  
he'd stood and fought,  
the Grim Reapers,  
some good, one not.

The Reapers had  
grinned,  
and laughed,  
and joked,  
feeling the Demon  
hadn't a chance  
in Hell.

But still the Demon  
at his Master's order,  
had proceeded to  
take one out with the other.  
A punch, a kick,  
with gravity's blessing  
had attacked the Reaper  
leaving the other one guessing.  
The Reaper had  
been flung and  
had fallen,  
taking out the other  
before he could dodge him.

That done,  
the Demon had  
turned to the last  
Shinigami, mad  
as always,  
the Reaper had laughed  
finding the plight  
of his lessors  
funny, quite.

Pulling out his weapon,  
he'd prepared to kill  
the Demon upon him.  
But the boat had shifted,  
turning this way,  
and that,  
in the oceans' sway,  
it threatened to buckle.

The Shinigami,  
turning to flee,  
dropped something  
that the Earl caught.  
In shock,  
he turned to the Earl  
and grinned,  
telling him to keep it safe.

The Demon,  
close on his heels,  
grabbed up the Earl,  
and kicked up his heels.  
Dodging falling  
corpses and debris,  
the Earl calling,  
his Demons name.  
They'd survived  
Angels, Demons,  
Reapers and Madmen,  
and more.  
Could they be felled  
by something as simple as  
a tragedy at sea?

The Demon swore, no.  
Despite the wound,  
refusing to heal,  
he told the Earl so.  
Leaping this way  
and that,  
he reached the keel.

The boat creaked  
and groaned,  
shifted,  
and moaned,  
threatening to give  
beneath the Demon's  
smartly clad feet.

Grabbing a life buoy  
he told the Earl  
to hold his breath  
before throwing him  
away from his death.  
The Earl falls,  
plummets without  
a scream.  
Seeing his Demon  
silhouetted against the  
fracturing boat.

Beneath the water,  
he sank,  
losing his grip  
on the buoy.  
The Demon leaped  
cutting through the water  
saving the Earl,  
from a death after the slaughter.  
Hauling him up,  
onto a boat.  
Seeing the child shiver  
he gave him his coat.

Getting in the boat hurt,  
and he checked on his wound,  
seeing that it had yet to heal.  
An oddity,  
as he was a Demon.  
But a Grim Reapers scythe  
can kill even them.  
He'd been lucky,  
that Undertaker hadn't  
hit him ever so slightly  
higher,  
where his soul sat  
at rest,  
ready to be harvested  
at a Reaper's behest.

He was so tired,  
his eyelids were heavy,  
the wound stung,  
with each breath he  
didn't need.  
But the Demon  
couldn't yet rest.

Seeking his Young  
Master's soul,  
the zombies arose,  
each moaning like a ghoul.  
Struggling to his feet,  
the Demon grabbed  
the paddle and,  
prepared to fight.

The Master crouched down,  
staying out of the way,  
as the Demon fought,  
and the boat began to sway.

One after the other,  
the zombies all fell,  
as the Demon fought,  
and his eyes  
glowed with hellfire.

By the time he was done,  
the zombies no more,  
the sun was rising,  
on a brand new day.

From afar, a boat  
sounded its horn,  
as Sebastian  
dropped the paddle  
and fell to his knees.

Turning to him,  
red meeting blue,  
the Earl told the Demon,  
he had earned a rest.  
The Demon was stunned  
his Master wasn't kind,  
but simply bowed his head,  
and bantered back.

As the people aboard the boat,  
panicked over his butler,  
hurrying to the makeshift  
sick-ward,  
Ciel turned to greet  
what family he had left.  
In the corner of his eye  
he saw his butler,  
being loaded onto a stretcher,  
nurses rushing about.

For the first time,  
in seemingly forever,  
the Earl felt  
guilt.


End file.
